


the perfect date

by IronSwordStarShield (SweetFanfics)



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Ever so slightly dubious content I guess, Happy Ending, Heat Sex, M/M, Masculine or Gender Neutral Terms for Tony's Genitals, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mutual Pining, Omega Tony Stark, PIV Sex, Trans Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:36:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21975967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/IronSwordStarShield
Summary: “You okay?” Steve asks.“Perfectly fine,” Tony replies on instinct. “Why do you ask?”“Well. Horatio just made a seriously bad joke and you didn’t even groan. And you’ve sighed at least three times since the show started and that was only ten minutes ago.”“It’s nothing,” Tony admits, trying to turn his attention into the show. “Just a small snag in my plans, that’s all.”“Anything I can help with?”Tony opens his mouth to thank Steve and tell him no, it’s not something Steve can help with. But thankfully, his brain works faster and reminds him that Steve’s an alpha. And he’s admitted a couple of days ago that he doesn’t have anything planned for the whole of next week. No dates, no charity engagements, no nothing.He shoots Steve a considering look, wondering if Steve would be open to being his date. Steve’s never been fond of getting in a penguin suit or rubbing shoulder with rich people. He’s too salt-of-the-earth and grounded for the crowd at those parties. But if Tony were to ask him for a favor...--Tony needs an alpha to be his date for a fancy shing-ding. He asks Steve, who says yes. And then Tony's heat strikes early.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 369
Collections: 2019 Captain America/Iron Man Holiday Exchange





	the perfect date

**Author's Note:**

> The prompts I got from my giftee, lemme tell ya. When I saw em, I literally was bouncing in place going "ohonhonhon" like. DAS SOME GREAT PROMPTS. So naturally I wound up combining two of the shorter ones (Trans Tony + protective Steve) into the longer plot of A/B/O world. I hope you like this gift coffindoors ; v;
> 
> A few points/notes:
> 
> 1\. I'm tagging this as mildly dub-con because Tony's heat-dumb/lust-struck and that has Steve questioning if Tony really wants to be with him. But Tony reassures him that YES, he wants STEVE because I imagined in this verse that heats in general involve a lot of like, chemistry. So like, you wouldn't want just ANYONE if you were in your heat. You'd want someone you...want. Ya know?  
> 2\. Tony is a trans dude. Ergo, I used masculine terms for his genitals, specifically dick and front hole  
> 3\. Makes vague noises about where this is set in canon. I guess at some general point before CW-2 but also what's Civil War? Never heard of her  
> 4\. Thank you, as always, to my St soulmate for being my soundboard and making sure there's some Good Shit TM in my fics  
> 5\. Happy holidays! /party horn noises

On the screen, Horatio Caine is examining the scene of the crime. It’s the start of the show so that means, any second now, he’s going to make a God awful pun that on any other day would make Tony groan before he tries to steal the remote away from Steve because _no_ . He’d much rather lose brain cells watching Grey’s Anatomy than this shoddy excuse for a crime procedural. The science in this show _sucks_ , okay? If he has to choose between medical inaccuracies versus forensic-science inaccuracies? Tony’ll pick medicine.

But this isn’t a day like any other. Instead of paying attention to the show, Tony’s mind is busy scrolling through his mental rolodex of contacts, wondering if he knows an alpha who is available to be his date for an upcoming gala. And by upcoming gala he means a $2,500 a plate, black-tie dinner that’s going to be held in _two days_. 

For the quickest of moments, Tony mourns the fact that Amara’s broken up with him. Everything turns dark and dull as he recalls her gentle words. “I’m sorry but I don’t see this working out in the long-term,” she’d told him, fingers clasped on top of the table, sending clear signals that she wouldn’t appreciate it if Tony tried to take her hand again. “I have my own work and you’ve got your own. What we had was amazing and I wouldn’t change it for the world. However...”

Tony shakes his head, pulling himself out of the memory and it’s tar-sticky fingers. If he falls into the moroseness that’s been clinging to him since his break-up then, well. It’s going to take him a while to crawl out of that hole. And this time, if Tony can help it, he’d prefer not to fall into that particular brand of sadness.

(This also means _not_ thinking about how his heat is less than a week away and he doesn’t have an alpha partner to help him through it. Plus there’s no one he really trusts so, Tony’s going to have a painful heat this time around. He’d think about hiring someone from a discreet, trustworthy agency but he feels too morose to even consider finding someone else so soon.)

So here he is, two days away from one of the fanciest events of the year, out an alpha as his plus-one. Sure he _could_ cancel or call the organizing head up and tell them that he won’t be showing up with a date. But it’s going to look bad from a PR perspective. God. Tony can see the tabloid headlines already. Everyone’s going to be gloating over the fact that he’s seemingly incapable of staying in a relationship, never mind the fact that he’d very much _like to do that_. He just... needs to find the right person, that’s all. 

_I’d found her once_ , Tony’s brain whispers to him. Rumiko’s image flashes before his eyes. His blue-tinged mood turns a deep melancholic navy. Tony sighs, sinking back into his seat as he wonders, _What’s the point in trying? What’s the odds of finding someone who gets me completely? Might as well give up. I should just ask Bambi to call the organizing committee and tell them to give the other seat away to someone else._

Ugh but then who knows who they’ll seat him next to. Who knows _who_ Tony’ll have to schmooze up to, or vice versa, if he lets the committee give the seat away to someone else. 

He _really_ wishes he could bail on this dinner all together but him and Pepper have a deal. He gets to bail on practically any event (provided there’s extenuating circumstances aka a superhero emergency) provided he will attend three events in full every year. The first event is the Maria Stark Foundation’s Annual Charity Ball. The second is a fundraiser all the Avengers participate in to help raise money for a children’s hospital. And the third is this particular dinner, whose proceeds go towards financing STEM and art programs for schools across the nation. 

So, he can’t back out or else Pepper’s going to do something _horrible_ to him. 

Sighing deeply, Tony resigns himself to going stag. He’s about to pull his phone out and ask Bambi to make the call when a hand appears in his line of sight. Tony stares at the waving hand before he follows it back to its owner, Steve, who is giving him a deeply concerned look. 

“You okay?” Steve asks with a concerned frown.

“Perfectly fine,” Tony replies on instinct. “Why do you ask?”

“Well. Horatio just made a seriously bad joke and you didn’t even groan. And you’ve sighed at least three times since the show started and that was only ten minutes ago.”

Forcing himself to grin, Tony says, “So you admit they’re bad jokes!” 

Steve doesn’t take the bait. Instead, a tint of ‘Really, Tony?’ creeps into his expression, not enough to overshadow his worry but just enough for Tony’s smile to crack around the edges. “It’s nothing,” he admits, trying to turn his attention into the show. Ugh. The opening credits are still rolling. “Just a small snag in my plans, that’s all.”

“Anything I can help with?”

Tony opens his mouth to thank Steve and tell him no, it’s not something Steve can help with. But thankfully, his brain works faster and reminds him that _Steve’s_ an alpha. And he’s admitted a couple of days ago that he doesn’t have anything planned for the whole of next week. No dates, no charity engagements, no nothing. Somehow, Steve and Sharon had broken up just before Amara had broken up with him. So, what would usually be date night for Steve is now, _not_ date night. Which means...

He shoots Steve a considering look, wondering if Steve would be open to being his date. Steve’s never been fond of getting in a penguin suit or rubbing shoulder with rich people. He’s too salt-of-the-earth and grounded for the crowd in these parties. _But_ if Tony were to ask him for a favor...

“I think you can,” Tony winds up saying as Steve patiently peers back at him.

\--

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Steve sighs as they walk through the gilded doors and into the large hall. He nervously tugs on his black-tie when a nearby socialite shoots him a curious look.

“I didn’t talk you into anything. I just asked you for a favor and you said yes.” Tony reminds him, gently slapping Steve’s hands away from his tie but it’s too late. The damn thing is crooked now. With a small tut, Tony steps forward to fix Steve’s tie. “If anyone should be complaining, it’s me.”

Wickedness sparkles in Steve’s eyes even as he smiles innocently at Tony. “You’re the one who agreed to let me pick what we’re going to watch on Thursday nights.”

“You twisted my arm for all it’s worth,” Tony grumbles, no heat in his words as he flatten’s the wrinkles out of Steve’s tie. Under his palm, Steve’s chest rises and falls slowly. Tony finds himself matching the next inhale and all he can smell is Steve. The clean, woodsy scent sparks heat deep in Tony’s stomach. 

It’s a flame that’s never really extinguished for him, his crush on Steve. It always flares up every time Steve’s single, various “what-if’s” and wild “maybe’s” stoke the fire on. His imagination tends to run wild imagining different scenarios in which they confess their feelings for each other and let biology take over. It’s particularly worse tonight because it’s a rare instance where Tony’s single as well. His omega-brain is preening with delight that _Steve’s_ his date. Steve who looks so good, smells so nice, and God, it would be _so easy_ to take Steve out of his dark suit. So much easier than his tactical uniform, which is not optimized for quickies. Fuck. 

Tony swallows, dry throat clicking, before he shakes his head. He needs to not let his dick get the better of him. It would be embarrassing if Steve found out about his crush by smelling how horny Tony is for him. Because if Steve’s _ever_ going to find out about Tony’s feelings, it will be classy and perfect, and it definitely won’t be Tony’s lust-addled, hind-brain got the better of him.

He clears his throat right as Steve teases, “Don’t worry. I’ll let you watch Grey’s at least once in the next two months.”

“You’re a paragon of virtue,” Tony tries to tease back but his voice is too hoarse and rough for it to sound teasing. 

And he knows Steve’s caught on that something’s going on because his blond brows drip into a furrow, concern written all over his face. But he never gets a chance to say anything because Kim Andrews comes out of nowhere, exclaiming, “Tony! What a surprise! You’re not fashionable late as usual!”

“You can thank my date for that,” Tony jokes, drawing Kim’s attention over to Steve, who stiffens minutely against Tony. Who drops his hand on Steve’s shoulder, more in the hopes of helping his relax than anything else, and introduces the two. “Steve, this is Kim Andrews, an old friend. Kim, this is Steve Rogers.”

“Captain America,” Kim greets, diamond earrings sparkling under the bright lights as she delicately tilts her head to meet Tony’s gaze. “Last I heard you were dating a scientist Tony. Is there anything you’d like to tell the rest of us?”

“I’m just doing him a favor, ma’am.” Steve is quick to point out.

She holds a hand out for him. “Please, call me Kim. Ma’am makes me feel old.” 

As Steve shakes Kim’s hand, Tony viciously stomps down on the green crawling up his throat. But that jealousy gets stuck, like a bone in his throat that won’t budget no matter how hard he swallows. He even presses a delicate fingertip against his Adam’s apple, wondering if maybe there’s a genuine physical obstruction in his throat but there’s nothing there. It’s all in his mind. 

He realizes the motion wasn’t as discreet as he’d hope for because Steve’s eyes are on him in a flash, the polite expression on his face fading away into quiet concern. ‘ _Are you okay?’_ he silently asks, blue eyes flitting down to Tony’s fingers, still on his throat. 

Steve moves half-a-step closer, hand coming to rest lightly in the middle of Tony’s back. Tony melts immediately, smiling faintly before he nods. He expects the answer to reassure Steve but the concern in his eyes doesn’t dissipate. Rather, for the next hour or more, Steve keeps shooting him worried little looks as Tony makes nice with his ‘peers.’ 

What’s more surprising is how Steve’s hand, more or less, stays pressed against the small of Tony’s back. There’s a couple of moments where Steve’s forced to take his hand back and Tony feels the loss keenly. But every time, Steve’s touch returns and the knot in Tony’s belly relaxes. 

But not all the way. Tony feels increasingly uncomfortable with the way so many people are assuming Steve’s his romantic date. He can tell that Steve’s not happy about it by the way he grows increasingly stiff next to him. Which only serves to ratchet up Tony’s own unhappiness because there’s no bigger gut punch than an unhappy Steve. 

He doesn’t realize that Steve’s been gently edging him towards a side door until they’re literally by the wall. Tony, who has distractedly been trying to figure out why he feels so hot, blinks at the door Steve’s holding open and asks, “Where we going?”

“I wanted to ask you something. It’s better we do it some place private.”

Tony sticks his head through the door and looks up and down the hallway. Faint lighting illuminates benches, a few paintings on the wall, a couple of large potted plants and that’s it. He’s going to guess this is a side of the building that doesn’t see a lot of action. As Tony steps through, waiting for Steve to follow, he wonders what’s up. He slips his phone and Avengers ID card out of his pockets, checking for any news of an emergency. There’s a couple of small incidents around town but the police seem to be handling them just fine. So whatever it is that Steve wants to talk about, probably isn’t Avengers related. 

Steve sits down on the nearest bench and gestures with one hand for Tony to sit next to him. Tony meanwhile, sinks down, is drawing a blank as to what Steve wants to talk about.

He turns to face Steve, their knees touching, watching and waiting. It takes Steve a minute to collect himself before he starts, each word said with great care. “I know that things have changed a lot since the 40s but I didn’t think it would be a good idea to talk to you about what’s going on with you out in public. Especially not in that crowd.”

Confused, Tony frowns at Steve. “Talk about what?”

Steve’s chest rises and falls; an exhale passes through Steve’s lips before his eyes meet Tony’s. “When’s your heat due, Tony?”

“My he-” Tony blinks his surprise away. “It’s a couple of days away.”

“And is it regular? To the date?”

“No. It’s usually a couple of days late.”

Steve’s handsome face twists into a pained grimace. “What about early?”

“I guess. Sometimes.”

There’s a long beat where Steve stares at him, expectant. But when Tony stares back, asking aloud, “Why are you asking about that?”

“Do... Tony. I think you’re in pre-heat.”

A record scratches in Tony’s head.

“What?”

Steve gestures at Tony with one hand. “I’m not sure if there’s any other alpha’s in the crowd but I can smell it. Plus, you’re burning up. And you keep...” Soft pink blooms across Steve’s cheekbones. “You keep sticking close to me. It’s like you’re looking for someone to be with. And every time I pull away, your scent goes all unhappy and sour.”

Tony buries his face in his hands, groaning. Is there a hole he can crawl into and die out of sheer embarrassment? Because of _all_ the embarrassing situations he’s found himself in around Steve, this one takes the cake. _How_ could this have happened? He should have known! He should have anticipated this because he knows his heat history and he should have planned accordingly! This is-

A gentle shoulder touch snaps Tony out of his thoughts. “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Steve says gently. “If your heats are irregular, there’s not a lot you could do.”

“I could have skipped this party and stayed at home,” Tony points out. Steve’s hand feels nice on his back. Which, when had Steve started to stroke his back? Whatever. It feels amazing and Tony feels his shoulders dropping, relaxing with each gentle stroke. “I could have made sure I didn’t have any engagements in the days around my heat date.”

Steve tilts his head in acquisition. “What do you want to do now?” He asks, deftly changing the subject. 

Tony’s brain feels like it’s made of sticky caramel or molasses. Everything is thick, sweet, and cloying. He breathes in deep, greedily relishing the calming scent pouring off Steve. Tony wants to soak in the woodsy scent, let it penetrate deep in him until his scent morphs and-

Cool fingers press against his cheek. Tony exhales a dreamy sigh as Steve worriedly says, “Your fever’s getting worse. I think I should take you home. Your heat’s coming in faster than expected.” 

“Yes,” Tony moans, turning his face into Steve’s fingers. His dry lips brush against Steve’s knuckles and part, dropping soft kisses until they hit fingertips. Tony opens his mouth wider, wanting to suck on Steve’s fingers but Steve moves his hand away. A whine echoes in Tony’s chest, stomach clenching because why is Steve pulling away? Doesn’t he want Tony? 

“I’m here. I’m here! I’m sorry.” Steve apologizes, one hand wrapping around Tony’s wrist. 

Tony follows the gentle tug and rises to his feet. He tries to take a step forward but stumbles on his own feet. His nose bumps into soft cotton and hard muscles. _Steve_ , Tony’s brain purrs happily. His arms slip under Steve’s jacket, hands roaming as his lips seek out warm skin. He wants to taste Steve. Wants Steve to taste him in return.

Steve’s saying something. Tony feels the echo of it under his palms but the words don’t penetrate. He just feels Steve’s heat pulling away and an insistent hand that’s taking him elsewhere. It’s still Steve though. Tony recognizes that much. But why is Steve moving? Why can’t they just stay here and kiss, touch, love? Must they go? Can’t they stay?

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Tony hears Steve mumbling to himself.

He can’t help but smile up at Steve, who is patting Tony down for the car keys. “I know what I’m saying to you, _Steve_. I want you. I’ve wanted you for ages.”

The hefty amount of doubt in Steve’s eyes would be slightly insulting if Tony wasn’t already knee-deep in his heat. So instead, what Tony feels is an aching desire for Steve to believe. He wants Steve to understand, to realize how _long_ Tony’s been in love with him. He leans forward, wanting to kiss Steve and whisper love confessions against Steve’s tongue but Steve stops him with a gentle hand to Tony’s neck.

“Not here,” Steve tells him.

Tony looks around him and realizes that they’re in his car now. Steve’s in the driver's seat, body turned towards Tony, who is riding shotgun. Why not in here? They’re alone in an enclosed space. It’s as good a place as any other. In fact, Tony’s ready to crawl over the stick and sit in Steve’s lap, greedy and eager for more now that they’re alone. But Steve’s hand shifts, shifting so that the heat of his palm rests square against the base of Tony’s neck and squeezes. 

Immediately, Tony melts in his seat, hips helplessly thrusting up in his seat as the touch goes straight to his core. _Fuck_ . That feels _good_. He finds himself panting, wishing, hoping, praying that Steve’s going to use his teeth on the same spot once they’re naked together. It’s going to be the best sex Tony’s ever had. He hopes Steve’s gonna put his hand on the nape of Tony’s neck and hold him down like that before fucking him into next week.

Once his brain goes down that avenue, his fantasies and desires, there’s no turning that car around. Tony’s mind spins scenarios out, one after another in succession. Steve bending him over the hood of his car and knotting him. Tony pushing Steve down on the elevator floor and sitting on Steve’s dick. He’s lying ass up in bed, getting his ass eaten out by Steve. Steve’s head is between his thighs, lips and tongue showing no mercy to Tony’s dick and front hole. 

The wetness between his thighs grows; it’s uncomfortable as hell by this point. Tony squirms in his seat, clumsy fingers struggling with his belt buckle. He wants to touch himself. He _needs_ to touch himself.

“No,” Steve’s hand lands on his wrist. They pass under a streetlight, whose light illuminates the plea in Steve’s eyes. “We’re almost home.”

Tony _needs_ so badly. But he can understand. If Steve doesn’t want him touching himself, that clearly means Tony should be touching _him_. Which is something Tony is only too happy to comply with.

He’s leaning over the gearbox, lips parted with hunger as he lowers his head down down into Steve’s lap, mind spinning even as his heart sings with happiness. He’s going to learn what Steve looks like, tastes like, _feels_ like on his tongue. His fingers touch Steve’s thigh. The muscles there are tight as rocks. 

_That’s not right_ , Tony frowns. Steve shouldn’t be feeling so tense. He should be relaxed. 

As Tony is muzzily pondering how to help Steve relax, Steve’s hand returns to the back of Tony’s neck. The squeeze this time is tighter: a warning. Not that that makes it feel any less good to Tony, who groans, relishing the pulse of heat the touch sends through him. Tony whimpers as Steve’s hand pulls away, leaving tingles in their wake; the vibrato echoes in his chest. 

“We’re almost back at the Tower,” Steve is saying, voice cracking. His eyes are trained out the windshield. His fingers tighten around the steering wheel, making it creak. “We’ll do whatever you want then.”

“Promise?” Tony pants, staring at Steve’s handsome profile. The scenery outside, behind Steve, is a dark and gold blur; the light and shadow play happening on Steve’s face is stunning. Steve’s eyes pull away from the road and lock onto Tony, who squirms under the hot gaze. “You promise you’ll fuck me when we get back?”

Steve swallows; Tony follows the bob of his Adam’s apple and yearns. It feels like his yearning is stoking the fire deep in his belly, fanning the flames as he imagines what lies in his immediate future. 

“I promise,” Steve promises, voice low and rough. “Just... please. Just be patient a little while longer. You’re doing so good. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

That sounds delicious. But Tony feels like he’s going to light up any second now if he doesn’t touch himself. Whining, he says as much. It may be the heat-lust talking but he can smell the sudden spike of lust that comes from Steve at the admission. That boosts his ego as much as it makes his front hole pulse with want. It feels good to know that Steve wants him. 

Tony slides one hand down his chest and purrs, “Please. Just let me touch myself. It hurts so bad Steve.”

Another swallow from Steve, harsher this time around. The steering wheel creaks again, dangerously loud. Somewhere deep in his brain, Tony realizes that _that_ wasn’t a good sound. “Okay. You-you do what you need to do to take the edge off. With yourself.”

Steve’s addendum is a minor pity but Tony forgets about it as soon as his fingers dip under his pants and briefs. His dick is swollen full and when his fingertips bump against the small erection, it feels like being struck by electricity except it’s better because there’s pleasure instead of pain. Tony’s uses two fingers to tease the base of his dick, rubbing it, teasing the tip, softly jerking it off, until he comes. 

Pleasure washes over his feet like the gentle kiss of a foam-tipped wave and urges him to step forward into deeper waters. Tony happily gives into the urge, letting his wet fingers slide a little further down to feel between his folds and dip into his front hole. _Fuck_. He’s so wet he’s soaked through his briefs. 

_Steve can probably smell me,_ Tony thinks, thoughts spirally wildly. _He can smell how wet I am for him. He can tell I’m ready for him._

Speaking of the man, Steve curses wildly and the car veers sharply to the left, forcing Tony’s shoulder to dig into the door. Which is very irritating because he’d just pushed two fingers into himself and he’s not hitting the right spot now. Someone outside angrily honks at them.

“Sorry! Shit!” Steve curses. His hair has come out of the slicked-back style he’s been sporting for most the night. He looks deliciously rakish now, what with the way his hair is kissing his forehead. “I got- _Fuck_. We’re almost there. Just around the corner.” 

Irritation creeps up the back of his neck like a bad migraine because this car ride is taking too long, his fingers aren’t doing the job, he wants _Steve_ , why isn’t there more leg room? Tony wants to spread his legs and get a good angl- actually. Why does he still have pants on? There’s just too many things wrong with this scenario. 

Tony’s managed to unbuckle his belt and has his pants half-way down his thighs when the car screeches to a halt. Which is terrible for him because he almost crashes chest-first into the dashboard but Steve soccer mom’s him in the blink of an eye. Their eyes fly to each other, different degrees of surprise reflected therein. 

Seriousness bleeds into Steve’s eyes as he asks, sounding as alpha as Tony’s ever heard him. “Tony. I’m going to ask you again. Are you sure you want to spend your heat with me? There’s still time to find you another alpha.”

Something angry and desperate rears its head up upon the mere concept of spending his heat with someone other than Steve. It pushes his heat-lust aside for a moment. And in that moment of clarity, Tony reaches out to grab Steve by the arm. Fiercely, he tells him, “Don’t you fucking _dare_! I told you I want to be with you! I meant it!”

“But you’re-”

“I’m not all the way in my heat yet. And just because I’m in heat doesn’t mean I lose _all_ my senses. If it’s someone I’m not interested in, I wouldn’t be reacting like this!”

That comes out a lot more muddled than he’d meant to, which is seriously counter productive to what he’s trying to say. But fuck! If Steve doubts his choice one more time, Tony’s going to do something stupid and reckless. Like sit on Steve’s dick. 

“I don’t want you to regret this.”

The way Steve says that, the edge of fear peeking through the curtains, cuts through Tony’s anger. He takes a deep breath (big mistake because all he smells is Steve and that makes him want to dive head back into want) and reaches deep to find his last shred of self-control. He relaxes his grip on Steve’s arm and raises his hand up to cup Steve’s jaw. And Tony reminds the other man, “If I didn’t want this with you, my body wouldn’t be behaving the way it is. Trust that.”

Steve blinks. Tony watches his chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm before he nods firmly. “Okay.”

Tony’s ready to weep with delight and crawl into Steve’s lap but Steve it seems, has other plans. Manhandling Tony plans apparently because he throws the car door open and yanks Tony out through the drivers side. He stumbles out, tripping over his own feet a couple of times on his way to the elevator. 

Thankfully, the doors open as soon as Steve slams his hand on the button, an action that comes with an audible cracking noise. Steve spins Tony around so that his back hits the wall and crows in immediately, hungry lips seeking out Tony’s parted ones.

Steve’s lips are _hot_ against his own. It’s like pouring gasoline on a forest fire and Tony’s happy to burn. His fingers clutch at Steve’s jacket before he realizes he should be doing the opposite, mostly because Steve’s fingers have dove straight down between them and are frantically pulling on Tony’s belt. Tony meanwhile, tries to shove Steve’s jacket off but the damn thing gets stuck around Steve’s elbows because he’s still doing _something_ to Tony’s pants. 

Steve’s fingers finally find the zipper to Tony’s pants and drag the tab down. “Fuck,” Tony exhales, eyes rolling back as Steve teases him through his soaked briefs. “Do that again.”

Steve obliges, rubbing against the underside of Tony’s dick with firm fingers. Tony body arches up into the touch. 

“Jesus. You’re so _wet_.”

The awe in Steve’s voice makes Tony want to preen with delight. He wants to beg for more praise. Like a sunflower turning to face the sun, Tony rolls his hips up into Steve’s hand and groans throatily, pleading for more. 

But Steve doesn’t follow through, not immediately anyways because the elevator doors open and Steve’s pulling him out. This time, thankfully, Steve keeps kissing him. Their hands keep bumping into each other as they try to undress each other at the same time. That and the fact that they won’t stop kissing makes the entire thing a delightful ordeal. 

Once they’re behind closed doors however, Tony gives in. There’s no need to think anymore. Nowhere else to go except to the bed. And once they’re there, with Tony sitting on Steve’s lap, dragging his wet against Steve’s dick, there’s no reason not to give into his desires. Except for that little voice in the back of his head that pops up when he feels Steve’s hand twitch with hesitation. Steve’s been so good so far, making sure that Tony’s on board and Tony hasn’t asked, even once, if _Steve’s_ okay with this. He just threw himself at the man without so much as a by your leave.

Tony pulls away and licks his lips. Steve blinks up at him, obviously confused as to why they’re not kissing anymore. “Are _you_ sure you want to do this? It’s okay if you don’t want me.”

_Don’t be an idiot_ , flashes through Steve’s eyes before he plants his hands on Tony’s hips and drags him closer, letting their dicks drag against each in sweet friction. The electrifying touch, and the fact that Steve’s dick is _so close_ to where Tony is wettest, has Tony rolling his hips in return. “I’ve wanted you for years.” 

That confession almost yanks Tony out of his heat because _what?_ How is that possible? But right after his admission, Steve’s hands land on Tony’s ass and squeeze. And the fact that Steve’s fingertips are _so close_ to his asshole? It makes Tony’s brain melt.

It’s so easy to give into his instincts: to kiss Steve, push him down, line them up, and sink down on Steve’s dick. It feels as easy as breathing. Easier maybe, to open his body completely to Steve, _for_ Steve. And he feels amazing. Thick, long, too much in just the right way. It’s just _so_ _easy_. Tony can’t stop marveling at the fact at the ease with which they fall into each other, move together.

It’s like being with someone for the first time is hard (ha, pun) but there’s always... it always feels a bit of a test for Tony. He want to make sure his partner enjoys themselves. To that extent, there’s a fair amount of trial and error that has to be done in real time. What does the other person like, what’s the no-goes. What can he do to make sure the other person is having a good time, you know? It’s the kind of stress that makes him do his best.

But this, having heat sex with Steve, there’s no stress involved. There’s just ease of movement and desire. It’s years of friendship and knowledge of each other crashing headfirst into new territory only to find out that the terrain isn’t as new as he’d feared. There’s understanding of what’s okay and what’s not. Mostly? It’s centered around pleasure. Making each other feel good, a cycle of mutual delight that spirals ever higher as they keep upping the ante. 

Tony’s insistence that he wants to suck Steve’s dick only leads to Steve yanking his body around so that he can have his head up between Tony’s legs, which makes Tony’s fingers wander around to squeeze Steve’s ass, which makes Steve’s lips wrap around Tony’s dick, so on, so forth. It’s one orgasm after another. It’s merciless, the way they move together, demanding pleasure. Tony’s hunger feels like a bottom-less pit; it doesn’t matter how hard he holds onto Steve, it just doesn’t feel enough. Sure when Steve knots him it cools the fire in Tony’s belly but it’s temporary. As soon as Steve’s knot deflates, Tony wants again.

But eventually, there comes a point where Steve knots him and Tony feels, _yes. I’ve had my fill_. Relaxing, Tony turns his face to kiss Steve’s jugular. Above him, around him, Steve shudders, hips jerking helplessly into Tony. Like somehow, he can push himself deeper into Tony than he already is. Tony shushes the man senselessly, kissing a fading hickey.

“Tony,” Steve moans, one hand tightening in Tony’s hair. The other hand is resting on Tony’s ass, holding Tony in place as he comes.This is the third time Steve’s come in him and Tony’s a fucking mess of sweat, slick, and come. And he’s never felt better. 

“I’ve got you,” Tony promises, stars flashing in front of his eyes when Steve thrusts once again and rubs Tony’s dick in the process. Fuck. His dick and front hole are going to be _so_ sore tomorrow. And it’ll be worth it. Also, wow. Did Steve fuck him so good that he’s having his first moment of clarity so early on in his heat? That’s fucking incredible _and_ incredible fucking. 

Speaking of tomorrow though, there’s going to be so much to talk about. So many confessions to make. 

It’s a scenario Tony’s rarely thought about because it had felt like a pipe dream. How could he ever tell Steve about his feelings? Tony never thought he had a chance with the man. But Steve’s little confession that he’s wanted Tony for years has Tony rethinking _everything_. 

What was once scary and out of his reach now feels like a dream come true. Tomorrow is going to be fantastic. Sure there’s going to be dried come in uncomfortable places and awkwardness and Steve’s probably going to apologize a hundred times over for biting Tony’s glands so hard that Tony’d yelped in pain _but_ Tony hopes that their relationship with bloosom anew. 

As Steve drops mindless little kisses into Tony’s hair, Tony _knows_ that their future together is going to be brilliant. 


End file.
